The postings on this site are my own and don’t necessarily represent IBM’s positions, strategies or opinions.
Peak Haiku
Huge confidence-votes
Historical day at work
Wish to celebrate.
Two hours later...
Valley Haiku
Connecticut mourns --
My childhood-and-more state
-- Elementary.
Showing posts with label haiku. Show all posts
Showing posts with label haiku. Show all posts
Friday, December 14, 2012
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Nine Haiku for Valentine's Day
The postings on this site are my own and don't necessarily represent IBM's positions, strategies or opinions.
Haiku #1
Confess that forgot?
No, find Pat did, too, and laugh...
Love, at 17.
Haiku #2
Chagrined at blogging,
but Pat's on Facebook right now.
Cats killed all languor.
Haiku #3
Cynthia Nixon --
Our entertainment later.
Phew! A date is nigh.
Haiku #4
Pat, I love always;
She makes me laugh and is kind.
The combo delights.
Haiku #5
Today: Chocolate Day
Not a day of greater love
Pat is better than....
Haiku #6
Our marriage still waits.
Will I ever be a bride?
New Jersey, come on!
Haiku #7
Recall macro-love;
Offer g'milut chasadim
Give loving kindness.
Haiku #8
How grateful I am!
I have a relationship.
Please, God, sustain it.
Haiku #9
Romantic love lasts;
It does not burn, though, like prior.
I smile, recalling.
Haiku #1
Confess that forgot?
No, find Pat did, too, and laugh...
Love, at 17.
Haiku #2
Chagrined at blogging,
but Pat's on Facebook right now.
Cats killed all languor.
Haiku #3
Cynthia Nixon --
Our entertainment later.
Phew! A date is nigh.
Haiku #4
Pat, I love always;
She makes me laugh and is kind.
The combo delights.
Haiku #5
Today: Chocolate Day
Not a day of greater love
Pat is better than....
Haiku #6
Our marriage still waits.
Will I ever be a bride?
New Jersey, come on!
Haiku #7
Recall macro-love;
Offer g'milut chasadim
Give loving kindness.
Haiku #8
How grateful I am!
I have a relationship.
Please, God, sustain it.
Haiku #9
Romantic love lasts;
It does not burn, though, like prior.
I smile, recalling.
Monday, July 7, 2008
American Flag
The postings on this site are my own and don't necessarily represent IBM's positions, strategies or opinions.
Haiku Triptych
Big, stripes, stars, cotton
Draped over my dad's coffin
Jewish war vets' gift.
Mom gave you to me
When sitting shivah began
I inhaled my loss.
The pine scent left you
Sitting primly, tri-cornered
Behind glass and wood.
Haiku Triptych
Big, stripes, stars, cotton
Draped over my dad's coffin
Jewish war vets' gift.
Mom gave you to me
When sitting shivah began
I inhaled my loss.
The pine scent left you
Sitting primly, tri-cornered
Behind glass and wood.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Spring Haiku
The postings on this site are my own and don't necessarily represent IBM's positions, strategies or opinions.
With Thanks to My Colleague Jay Cagle...
...who inspired a number of us to write them in honor of the vernal equinox:
Again, crushed flowers
canceling our subscription
if his aim fails thrice.
With Thanks to My Colleague Jay Cagle...
...who inspired a number of us to write them in honor of the vernal equinox:
Again, crushed flowers
canceling our subscription
if his aim fails thrice.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
More Life, Going On
The postings on this site are my own and don’t necessarily represent IBM’s positions, strategies or opinions.
[C]haikus
Broken robin's egg
Tiny splash on our blacktop
Spotted while walking
Crown of golden fluff
Small mouth unhinged and skyward
No survivor's guilt
My friend's mother died
Please, God, don't let mine die, too
She was fairly young
Crown of tawny fringe
Named, like my friend, for granddad
Too young to get it
Death or Sports Car Pride
At work, we've got an online community for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender (GLBT) IBMers and every other IBMer who's interested in maintaining an exchange. Last fall, not long after the following experience happened, I wrote about it on that forum:
My mom was recovering from a hospitalization for colitis. One of the days when I went to visit her was especially warm and bright.
For what felt like miles and miles, I was on a two-laned road, following a guy driving a vivid blue Corvette convertible. A small, clear, blue glass dolphin was swinging from the rear-view mirror and the driver wore a white baseball cap.
This guy knows how to live, I decided. How much fun to have a convertible on a day like today! I looked to see his license plate, which had a vanity message: "Mahvet."
God, how weird! Mahvet, mahvet. Oy! "Mahvet" is the word in Hebrew for death. The angel of death has quite a sense of humor. Is this what he really looks like? A guy in a baseball cap, driving a convertible sports car?
I feared that mahvet was, God forbid, a sign of impending doom for my mother, or even me. I was so plagued that I had to post about it.
One of my colleagues and friends responded to the posting, "Are you sure he wasn't just showing off, telling everyone that it was his 'vette? Ugh! "Mah vet[te]! P.S., knock on wood, my mother has recovered and is fine now.
That's the comedy of errors I want to recall as I worry about my two friends' recent losses of their mothers. I don't want to look for signs and worry about my own mother's health, or Pat's mother's, but I do worry about both, as Pat and I get ready to be out of the country for the next six months, in India on business.
It's the biggest anxiety I have -- the potential for either of our mothers, God forbid, to become ill while we're away. In considering whether or not to accept the assignment, that figured in hugely, along with fearing that Pat and I will perhaps inadvertently disrespect Indian culture and get in trouble for it.
Our mothers, both, were enthusiastic when we told them about the opportunity to go to India. God bless them. There was no guilt pored on and I just pray that both of them will be healthily here when we return.
The mother-robin is feeding her babies again. Sitting at the window, they're just above eye-level, in the broad-leaved maple tree in our front yard.
How will she feel when they leave the nest? How will they feel without her corporeal nurturing?
[C]haikus
Broken robin's egg
Tiny splash on our blacktop
Spotted while walking
Crown of golden fluff
Small mouth unhinged and skyward
No survivor's guilt
My friend's mother died
Please, God, don't let mine die, too
She was fairly young
Crown of tawny fringe
Named, like my friend, for granddad
Too young to get it
Death or Sports Car Pride
At work, we've got an online community for gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender (GLBT) IBMers and every other IBMer who's interested in maintaining an exchange. Last fall, not long after the following experience happened, I wrote about it on that forum:
My mom was recovering from a hospitalization for colitis. One of the days when I went to visit her was especially warm and bright.
For what felt like miles and miles, I was on a two-laned road, following a guy driving a vivid blue Corvette convertible. A small, clear, blue glass dolphin was swinging from the rear-view mirror and the driver wore a white baseball cap.
This guy knows how to live, I decided. How much fun to have a convertible on a day like today! I looked to see his license plate, which had a vanity message: "Mahvet."
God, how weird! Mahvet, mahvet. Oy! "Mahvet" is the word in Hebrew for death. The angel of death has quite a sense of humor. Is this what he really looks like? A guy in a baseball cap, driving a convertible sports car?
I feared that mahvet was, God forbid, a sign of impending doom for my mother, or even me. I was so plagued that I had to post about it.
One of my colleagues and friends responded to the posting, "Are you sure he wasn't just showing off, telling everyone that it was his 'vette? Ugh! "Mah vet[te]! P.S., knock on wood, my mother has recovered and is fine now.
That's the comedy of errors I want to recall as I worry about my two friends' recent losses of their mothers. I don't want to look for signs and worry about my own mother's health, or Pat's mother's, but I do worry about both, as Pat and I get ready to be out of the country for the next six months, in India on business.
It's the biggest anxiety I have -- the potential for either of our mothers, God forbid, to become ill while we're away. In considering whether or not to accept the assignment, that figured in hugely, along with fearing that Pat and I will perhaps inadvertently disrespect Indian culture and get in trouble for it.
Our mothers, both, were enthusiastic when we told them about the opportunity to go to India. God bless them. There was no guilt pored on and I just pray that both of them will be healthily here when we return.
The mother-robin is feeding her babies again. Sitting at the window, they're just above eye-level, in the broad-leaved maple tree in our front yard.
How will she feel when they leave the nest? How will they feel without her corporeal nurturing?
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